


Body Shots

by anemptymargin



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Alcohol, Community: comment_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-27
Updated: 2011-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:11:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Michael, celebrating with a bottle of tequila.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Shots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



> First time in the fandom, many thanks to [Missy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy) for reading and handholding and being awesome.
> 
> Comment fic, prompt: Burn Notice, Sam/Mike, Body shots

It’s not entirely clear how they got to the point where beer turned into tequila – that’s still a bit fuzzy – but the point where slammers got a bit more naked and friendly was fairly clear, all things considered.

Michael poured his last shot, a few drops of Cuervo spilling over the sides of the shot glass and onto the bed. “Count me down, Sammy.”

“Three…” Sam grinned, stumbling to the side of the bed. “Two…” He wobbled on drunken feet, sinking down on his knees. “Three!” He shouted, flopping out onto his bare belly, jostling the shot in Michael’s hand enough to spill even more.

Letting out a whoop, Michael licked the side of his hand - most of the salt gone due to spillage, downed the drink and bit down into a lime wedge that was essentially spent. “And that’s five!”

“The last one was five.” Sam groaned and rolled onto his back, picking up the nearly empty bottle. “You’re drunk.”

“I am.” He grinned, dropping the shot glass amongst the knotted sheets. “Three shots ago.” Sam laughed until his body shook and Michael wiggled closer to him stripping off his shirt in the process. Sitting cross-legged and swaying slowly, he managed; “You’re up.”

“Meh… the glass is all the way over there. I’m good.”

“I am not drinking alone, Axe. This is a celebration.” Michael poked him hard in the side. “C’mon, sit up sit up.”

Giving in, Sam sat up with a low groan. “Fine. I’m vertical. Hit me.”

Michael reached for the glass, his fingers grazing the surface and then pushing it further away. Reaching again, he fell onto his belly – flailing until he’d managed to successfully knock it to the floor. “Uh… not happening.”

Sam lifted the bottle and shrugged, there was no dignity in tequila straight from the bottle… that was for the terminally pathetic and drunk girls with no self respect. “Hey, Mikey… I’mma try something.” He smiled, patting Michael’s upper thigh. “Don’t move.”

“You know I can’t trust that…”

“No, I saw some drunk girls do it when I was down in Cabo. It’s all right.” Besides, if there is an authority on alternate methods of tequila consumption its drunk girls.

Michael stiffened his back slightly, waiting for something most likely involving fire. When he felt the slow chill of alcohol on his bare lower back, he gasped – the gasp turning into a groan with the application of a warm mouth.

Sam smiled against Michael’s skin, lapping off the drizzle in one long lick – applying just the slightest bit of suction against the dip of his backbone. “Wha-hoo!”

“Am I blushing?” Mikey closed his eyes into the blanket, feeling Sam’s hands tugging down his boxer shorts.”I’m pretty sure I should be blushing.”

“Body shots, Mikey – you’ve got a lot of body that needs shot.”

“I think I’m up.” He protested for reasons that he couldn’t really fathom.

Sam tugged the shorts down around Michael’s knees, “I’m pretty sure you are.” He chuckled under his breath, preparing for a second shot. “Just taking a little a bit of a chaser.”

Michael braced himself again; well aware of Sam’s strong hands splitting him open followed by the cool booze dripping down off his tailbone. He groaned loudly, burying his face fully in the sheets when it was followed by the warm, wet tongue and scrape of two day stubble. “Are we going for it?” He asked, a slight whine creeping into his voice.

“Out of Cuervo.” Sam smirked, bringing his palm down against Michael’s ass with a loud smack.

“Well… we are celebrating.” He pushed over onto his side, turning his torso just enough to see Sam still kneeling behind him. “We could… probably get away with it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


End file.
